


Alive

by blackeyedqueen



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Can be seen as platonic, Happy to be Alive, M/M, Mentions of Being Dead, Mentions of PTSD, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/blackeyedqueen
Summary: “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> very short drabble from a prompt meme request on tumblr.
> 
> Come visit me: [@bisexualsucubus](http://fakegenjimain.tumblr.com) on tumblr, [@marmorasblade](http://twitter.com/marmorasblade) on twitter!

Sometimes, out of nowhere, Jason is hit with the realization that he _exists_. Sometimes it’s like it knocks into his chest and leaves him breathless. He becomes hyper-aware of his surroundings. The people around him, what they’re talking about, what the air smells like, how his clothes feels against his skin. Because there was a time where there was _nothing_. 

Jason often calls upon that time in his life (or, non-life) in the most inconvenient of times. Like when he’s fighting a villain, or when he’s in the shower and all his scars are looking back at him, or when he’s trying to sleep and the darkness behind his eyes reminds him of the inescapable darkness of death. Sometimes it leaves his hands shaking and his chest burning and his eyes wet. But other times it strikes him with awe. Like right now.

Right now he is grappling and swinging from rooftop to rooftop with Tim Drake at his back. Adrenaline in his veins, rain pelting his coat, and petrichor filling his nostrils. He can _feel_  this.He is here and he is _alive_ and he _feels_ , a stark contrast to the numbness of his death. It’s so overwhelming for a moment that he stops on the next roof they swing up to. He pulls off the hood, tilts his head back, and lets the rain fall onto his face, cold and stinging. The lightning strikes like veins in the sky in the distance, lighting everything up like daylight. The thunder rumbles and he can feel the quake in his feet, his chest, his hands. Everything is so alive. He is alive. And he smiles.

Tim joins him on the roof. He lets Jason have his moment. Tim gets it, he thinks. Well, he doesn’t _get it_. Tim, fortunately, has never died. But he knows why Jason gets like this, despite that they’ve never really talked about it. So Tim waits while Jason stops and takes it all in. Jason is still smiling when he turns to look at Tim, another flash of lightning lighting up the sky and he sees that Tim is smiling, too, just a little bit.

“So,” Tim yells over the wind and the rain and the thunder. “We’re in the middle of a _thunderstorm_ , and, what? You wanna stop and feel the rain?” He tries to sound annoyed, but the look on his face betrays him.

Jason laughs, a genuine laugh, because to anyone else this is ridiculous. It’s just rain. It’s just a thunderstorm. It’s just weather. But to Jason this moment is so much more.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason says. “Better get your ass inside. All I need is for you to get sick and whine about how it’s _my fault_  it for a damn week.”

“That’s not how sick works,” Tim starts to argue, but Jason is already putting the hood back on and turning away. He aims his grapple and flies through the city and feels so, so alive.


End file.
